


i'll be seeing you

by padme_skywalker



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, F/M, Fluff, Time Travel, let bucky be loved, maybe eventual smut, steve is wack for leaving bucky but that's okay i'll fix it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:27:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24275059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/padme_skywalker/pseuds/padme_skywalker
Summary: When Steve decides to stay in the past to be with Peggy, he sends back the only person who could ever take care of Bucky better than he could.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 10
Kudos: 54





	i'll be seeing you

_**June 1943** _

The summer sun was setting on Brooklyn. You walked through the busy streets, heels clacking on the hot concrete, trying your hardest not to stare at the soldiers embracing their gals as if it were the last time they would ever be able to. It probably was.

Your heart thumped uncomfortably in your chest every time a pressed khaki uniform strutted by. It was silly. You hadn’t received a letter from Bucky in weeks, and had no clue if he was even going to be able to come home before they shipped him off to fight a war he had no business being in.

It was easier to keep your eyes on the ground as you walked down the street to your humble apartment. You were ready to get inside, take off those awful heels and stockings that were squeezing your feet, and wallow in your own pity until Steve came over for dinner.

“Why the long face, doll?”

That familiar Brooklyn drawl caused you to snap your head up, eyes wide. There he was, in the middle of the sidewalk wearing that stupid uniform, his hat titled on his head, and holding a newspaper with a lazy grin. He was a vision wrapped in khaki colored cotton, looking like he had stepped out of a movie instead of a training camp.

“Bucky?” You wasted no time jumping into his arms, savoring the feeling of him wrapping them around your waist, not even caring that your blouse was damp with sweat and sticking to your skin from the summer heat.

“That’s Sergeant James Barnes to you, sweetheart.”

You laughed, stepping back but not letting go of him. “Sergeant? Already? You always were the over achiever, Jamie.” 

Bucky swatted you on top of the head with his paper. “Don’t call me that. If a dame hears you callin’ me Jamie she’s gonna think you’re sweet on me or something.”

“In your dreams, Sergeant,” you teased. “Walk me home? I’ve had a long day and I’m ready to take these stupid shoes off.”

You looped your arm through the crook of Bucky’s elbow, letting him lead you to your apartment. Golden beams of light reflected off the shiny buttons of his uniform. He looked so grown yet all you could think of was the chubby faced, blue eyed ten-year-old who had snuck over to Manhattan with his scrawny sidekick all those years ago. It made your heart hurt. Your stomach hurt. Your soul hurt.

Bucky walked you up the stairs and took your keys from you before opening the door, walking in like he owned the place. He smiled down at you, his eyelashes brushing his cheeks when he blinked. “I’m still surprised your parents even let you live with us peasants over here in Brooklyn.”

That got him a jab to the side from your elbow. “I’m a grown woman with a job, Buck. They can’t tell me what to do with my own money.” Sending him a sly grin, you added, “Besides, I’ve always been a little more Brooklyn than Manhattan, don’t you think?”

“You had bad influences,” he said with a chuckle.

“Oh, the _worst._ They corrupted my sweet little Manhattan sensibilities and made me think I was my own person with my own goals. How terrible of them.”

Your purse went on the hook by the door, and your heels were shed somewhere in the middle of the small foyer with your stockings left in a pile next to them. It was so improper, and you imagined your mother would have a heart attack if she knew you were in your apartment in such a state with Bucky there, but he just pinched your side with a grin and made his way to the sofa.

That was always your favorite thing about Bucky. He was a gentleman, of course, but he never forced you to keep up the meaningless charade of “decency” that the society you came from seemed adamant to make you follow.

Bucky changed your life. He was the reason you ignored your parents’ insistence to stay at home and their constant badgering to meet men they wanted you to marry. The reason you had the courage to beg them to send you to college so you could become a teacher. The reason your heart raced and palms would sweat and stomach would churn with butterflies.

He was everything you could’ve ever asked for. How did anyone expect you not to fall in love with Bucky Barnes?

It was just too bad the entire female population of Brooklyn thought the same.

You sat on the couch beside him and folded your legs underneath you. His head was resting on the back of the couch but he tilted it to look at you. “How’s work going?”

You shrugged. “Teaching summer school isn’t my ideal summer vacation but it pays extra and keeps me busy so I guess I can’t complain too much.” The loose thread on the couch cushion became increasingly interesting as you picked at it, refusing to look up and be sucked into those ocean blue eyes. You swallowed the thick saliva that had coated your throat. “How long are you here for?”

“I ship off to England in the morning.”

Your eyes screwed shut as you tried not to cry. Why should you cry? You weren’t the one being shipped off to their imminent death. A nod was all you could manage.

A warm hand wrapped around the one that was slowly but surely picking a hole in your couch. “I promised Steve I would take him out on the town one last time before I leave. The Stark Expo is tonight and I know how much you love his stuff. You coming?”

“That depends, what poor girls did you convince to go out with you two heathens?” you teased, a small grin making its way onto your face.

“Har, har,” he said with a shove. “For your information, I didn’t have to convince Bonnie and Connie at all. Not many can resist the Barnes charm.”

You gave a long whistle. “You’ve been back only a couple of hours and you really already found a date? I don’t know why I expect anything less from Bucky Barnes.”

“Yeah, well, I figured Stevie needed another nudge to get out there and find someone. Can’t be his wingman forever, you know.” Bucky gave you his best smile. “So are you coming? We’ll probably go dancing after. It’ll be fun. I promise. Maybe some lovesick soldier will sweep you off your feet.”

You shook your head. “You know I don’t want just any old soldier, Bucky.” The thought of being with someone other than Bucky made you almost as sick as the thought of having to sit and watch him swoon yet another random girl. “I think I’ll just stay in tonight. You and Steve can have your little double date.”

“You sure? It won’t be the same without my best girl there. I wanna dance with you one last time,” he said, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand.

A sad smile took over your face. “I’m sure. I can meet you at your place in the morning and walk you to the docks, though. I don’t want you to have to go alone.”

With one last squeeze to your hand, Bucky stood and pulled you to the door. The two of you stood with your arms wrapped around each other maybe just a few seconds past what was proper and he pressed a lingering kiss to the crown of your head before turning and walking out of your building.

And if you stood there for an hour staring at the door of your apartment waiting for him to come back, to beg you to run away with him so he didn't have to go fight in a war that wasn't his, well, no one would ever know.

* * *

You stood at the threshold of the small townhouse gnawing on your lip while you watched Bucky’s mom and little sisters say their goodbyes. Winnifred was a mess, still in her nightgown with her hair in disarray, while she fretted over her only son. Her lips moved in a silent prayer as she straightened his cap and dusted invisible dirt from his shoulders. The three Barnes girls stood behind them, Rebecca staring at the wall while she held her other two sisters in her arms.

With one last kiss Winnifred Barnes let go of the little boy who made her a mother all those years ago, somehow knowing it would be the last time she would ever see him.

You tried to make conversation to take both of your minds off of the inevitable, commenting on the pretty weather and the stray dog in the alleyway you were thinking about taking home, but your normally rambunctious Bucky just nodded along to your ramblings.

Even when you popped into his favorite deli with the excuse that he had to have one last New York bacon, egg, and cheese, the somber look never left his face. When you stepped back into the warm Brooklyn sunlight, instead of letting you hook your arm in his, he grabbed your hand and intertwined your fingers, holding on as if you were the only thing keeping him from floating away.

Any attempt to lighten the mood flew out the window as the ship entered your line of sight. The pit in your stomach deepened, bringing you dangerously close to upchucking the glorious egg sandwich from earlier. Bucky’s hand gripped yours even tighter. You tried to ignore the burning of your eyes and the knot in your throat and the cries of wives and mothers and girlfriends and sisters as they clung to their soldiers.

Bucky stopped and turned to face you. You could feel his eyes on you but you couldn’t bring yourself to look up from his shiny black shoes.

“It’s not fair, Buck,” you choked out.

“It’s war, doll. It’s not meant to be fair,” he murmured.

You sniffed and quickly wiped the tears that were threatening to escape from your eyes. “I’m trying to be strong for you, Jamie, but it’s just really hard.”

Bucky dropped his rucksack on the ground and pulled you into his arms. “You don’t have to be strong, doll. I’m plenty strong for the both of us.”

“You shouldn’t have to be, either.” A sob managed to tear its way out of your throat. You stood there, gripping his jacket for dear life, soaking his shirt with your tears. “Do you think if we chopped your arm off then they wouldn’t make you go? I’ll make sure it’s your left one since you like your right so much.”

“I need both my arms if I’m gonna come back here and get a dance from you since you skipped out on me last night.”

You pulled back and looked up at him, trying to commit his face to memory. The dimple in his chin, his strong jaw, the blue of his eyes, his short brown hair, the smile he was giving you despite the glistening tears he refused to let fall. If only you had a camera with you just so you would never forget him like this. Your sweet, sweet Jamie.

“Oh, I brought you something.” You fished around in your purse for a moment. “I can’t have you forgetting me over there, can I?”

Bucky held the two objects in his hands. His fingers ran over the silky white handkerchief, slowly tracing your blue initials embroidered on the corner. In the other hand was a small square photograph. There you were standing on a corner in Brooklyn, the one right by his ma’s place, your gingham dress and your neatly curled hair being rustled by the wind as you smiled at the camera. He knew that dress. It was yellow- probably his favorite on you.

“Don’t think I could forget you if I tried, doll.” His laugh was wet and strained, like it was taking everything in him not to break down right there. He placed both items in his jacket and pulled a silver chain from over his neck. The dog tags were dropped in your palm before he closed your fingers over them and pressed a kiss to your balled up fist. “Keep those safe for me, will ya?”

“Don’t you need these?”

“Nah, I got another pair. I want you to have them.” Bucky kept his hand over yours. “You’re my best friend, you know that?”

You gave a small smile and looked up at him. His other hand came up to cup your face, while yours gripped onto the lapel of his jacket. “’Course I do, Jamie. And you’re mine.”

“I have something to ask you. When I get back,” he whispered, almost as if he didn’t mean for you to hear.

“Why not just ask me now?”

“I gotta have a reason to come back, don’t I?” he said cheekily, giving you the smile he reserved just for you. No other girl in Brooklyn got that smile. It broke your heart that it might be the last time you ever saw it.

“Promise me you won’t do anything stupid, James. Don’t try and be a hero. Just do what you have to do and then come home. Please.” You felt stupid begging him to promise to come home. War doesn’t care about the promises a man makes to the silly girls they leave back home.

The smile never fell from his face. “How can I do anything stupid when Steve’s got all the stupid here with him?”

There was a smart remark on the tip of your tongue, and just as you opened your mouth it was drowned out by the ship’s horn. The look on his face told you it was time. Your hand shot up to grip his still holding your cheek. “Bucky,” you sobbed, unable to get anything else out.

“I know, doll. I know,” he whispered. His arms wrapped around you so tight you were sure you would have a bruise. It still wasn’t enough. “Take care of my ma. Just check in on her every once in a while. Please. And Steve. I know you will but I just have to ask.” You nodded into his chest.

Bucky’s mouth dropped to your forehead, kissing you as he inhaled your perfume. He wishes he had a bottle to take with him. He gave you one last kiss on the cheek, and another to your hand, then picked up his rucksack and boarded his ship with a final wave. Your chest hurt.

He never promised to come back.

You stood there staring at the horizon with a white knuckle grip around his dog tags until the sun set and the moon rose in the sky. You paid no attention to the pitying looks from the dock workers as you turned and made your way back to your apartment, hoping that maybe Steve would indulge you in reminiscing about all the good memories the three of you had made over the years.

And if Bucky lay on a hard cot that night, holding your silk handkerchief to his nose to smell your perfume as he cried for all the moments he could’ve had with you but now probably never would, well, no one would ever know.

**Author's Note:**

> hello friends! so this is my first time writing for the mcu fandom (especially bucky), so i hope i did an okay job? when i first wrote this i thought about making it a one shot, and everyone just be sad because obviously bucky doesn't make it back home, but instead i have decided to take it a little further because i am a sucker for a happy ending. as of right now i believe this will be 4 parts, maybe 5 if i decide to throw in a little smutty action but i am undecided.
> 
> follow me on tumblr: mandalorianspace.tumblr.com


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